"The monkey’s paw is gripped tightly in your hands, a mangy curio purchased on your recent travel abroad. The wizened fakir that sold it to you promised it could fulfill any wish, an absurd statement but here in the stillness of your room curiosity has sunk its claws deep into you and a whispered plea escapes your lips: ;I wish for an album that can recapture the sound of early Machine Head.'" If wishes were Machine Heads, Rob Flynn would abide.[Give in to your anger...]